


Interlude: The Measure of a Man

by Dawnshadow



Series: Two Scions Walk Into a Bar.... [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Acupuncture, Duelling, Gen, Implicit spoilers for 3.4, Magic Theory, Pray Return Thee To The Waking Sands, Spoilers: Heavensward, X'rhun Really Does Know Everyone!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawnshadow/pseuds/Dawnshadow
Summary: Raubahn—once Flame General, now branded traitor and murderer—recovers within the Waking Sands. While his physical wounds are mending well, he finds his host inscrutable and difficult to trust, Scion or no....





	Interlude: The Measure of a Man

"I don't understand what this is meant to do." Raubahn frowned, then gritted his teeth as another levinbolt shock shot through the place where his left arm wasn't. How could something that no longer existed hurt this much? "How those tiny things are going to help."

Higiri gave him a sympathetic look, then kept preparing her tools—in this case, a set of fine needles. "You pain is caused by the disruption of your aether. It expects for you to have an arm there, but you do not. And thus, it pains you." She checked a book open on the table, nodded, and then took up one of the needles, stepping toward Raubahn. "The standard treatment for such symptoms, back in Doma, is… was… to use an art called acupuncture. These fine needles are made of an alloy that is capable of redirecting the flow of aether in the body, correcting the imbalance that causes the pain. It's good for other ailments, as well, but this is the pattern we'll need for this purpose."

"Hmph. Try it." Raubahn heard a soft whir from the corner of the room. He turned, half-reaching for the sword he wasn't carrying at the moment before he remembered himself. Urianger had already struck him as decidedly odd, but now the man had pulled a second set of goggles _atop his goggles_ and was clearly _inspecting_ him. Scion or no, it was difficult for Raubahn to place his trust in a man who always covered his face and refused to speak plainly. He stared the man down. "What are you doing?"

"Observing thy treatment." He set down his pen and motioned toward his face with the freed hand. "These goggles—created for the Scions for to aid in our primary purpose of thwarting the threat of Primals and their summoners—allow the clear sight of aether, unimpeded by limits of natural eye. Doubtlessly it escaped not thy notice the like set that Thancred possesses in the course of his dealings with thee and thine? If—as the lady says—these needles are truly capable of redirecting the flow of aether in the body, the study of such art is doubtlessly worthy of mine attention. Imagine, for example, if similar needles writ large could disrupt aether without, and in such—proactively positioned-- ruin a primal's formation ere it truly began. Beast tribes are wont to use the same sacred summoning grounds repeatedly; permanently spoiling one could cause significant delay, particularly if they failed to recognize what force did act to disrupt their summoning."

"I do wonder if such could be be possible, Archon. The flow of aether in the body works on very different principles than aether outside of it. But—as we said—you're welcome to observe and learn what you can." Higiri stepped up onto a stool—bringing her on level with his head-- and wiped Raubahn's skin with a substance that smelled sharply of alcohol and some mixture of herbs. "Be very still, General." She unceremoniously started to insert the needles. Slender. Painless, just as she'd claimed.

Raubahn stayed as still as she had bidden; the Doman woman's techniques were indeed foreign, but they'd been effective thus far—would only that they'd known the Domans knew these arts, perhaps they'd have found a warmer welcome when they came to Ul'dah's shores as refugees. Yet, at the same times, how many of his countrymen had come to Ul'dah with talents just as rare and precious, only to see them rot on the vine for want of capital to establish themselves? He couldn't help them all. Couldn't save them all.

With all his success, with all his power, he couldn't save them.

The needles didn't pain him, but they itched.

Raubahn heard the Scion's quill scratch over paper as Higiri continued to slowly turn him into a veritable cactaur, one precisely placed needle at a time. But now he was starting to feel it—the energy in his body shifting, ever so slightly. He turned his focus inward, following the shift as it happened. He was no great mage, but it was always good to have a few tricks at hand should one need to surprise the enemy. Then he noted that the pain in his arm… in the place where his arm had been… had faded. No shocks. No odd feeling that it was still there, and all he had to do was move it. Nothing. "It's working," he observed, his voice low.

"Excellent." Higiri sounded pleased. "And one more… there. We'll let these linger for about a quarter-bell, then remove them."

"How long does it last?" Raubahn asked. "Once you take the needles out?" The scion hummed in clear interest, the pen scratching rapidly.

"Right now? A few days, perhaps." Higiri stepped down from the stool and, instead, sat on it for the moment. "With repeated treatments, your aether will learn its new boundaries, and in doing so trouble you less. If you have any talent in aether control, you can help it along—observe how it's moving now. Later, if your lost arm pains you, try to make the aether move in the same way."

"It's a skill I'll need learn, then. It won't do to enter battle, only to be laid low, distracted by old wounds." Raubahn turned his head, trying to see the pattern the needles made.

"Thou wouldst fight in thy condition?" The scion pulled the secondary set of goggles away; they whirred again as they deactivated. "I imagine thee capable, once thine wounds are well-mended, but it will take time."

Raubahn turned again to stare the man down, rankling at the suggestion. "Of course I'll fight, I'm the bloody Flame General," he growled. "And what of you? Why do you cower behind these walls while your champion risks their very life for your cause?"

Urianger seemed unintimidated. "Do not mistake my place here for cowardice, Flame General, no more than thou wouldst think thine own logisticians cowards for not standing on the front. I have many tasks, beyond the upkeep and continued warding of the Waking Sands itself and the care and comfort of her esteemed guests. I, alongside the other Scions stationed here, have been gathering information on the whereabouts and ultimate fate of our missing allies, including thy Sultana. Beyond that, there is a momentous amount of logistical and diplomatic work that needs be done far below that which requires our champion's personal attention, along with a few personal research projects—these aether-bending needles being but one amongst them."

Raubahn huffed, the reminder stinging. "You don't fight, then."

"I'm well capable of defending myself when the situation calls for such action, but the battlefield is not where my talents are best exploited. I am a scholar before all else, and 'twould be most imprudent to disregard that."

The scion had a point—there was something to be said for knowing one's strengths. He remained damnably hard to read. Of course, there was more than one way to get to know a man…. "My words were ill-considered. I apologize."

"Thine words have drawn not my ire." The scion frowned, his next few words markedly hesitant. "To be deceived-- in such a way as thou wert, by one once considered friend-- is wounding to the soul, as much if not more so than wounds of the flesh. I fear my carelessly chosen words inadvertently aggravated them. It is I who owes thee contrition, not the opposite."

"If you'd show me a kindness, I would have your measure." Much of a man's soul was revealed in battle. "Your spells against my steel, once I'm sufficiently recovered."

Urianger frowned. "I would doubtlessly be a most unsatisfying opponent. As I said—I possesses prowess enough to defend myself, but my capabilities are but a flickering candle in comparison to thine."

"Even when my flame has been reduced to ember and ash?"

Higiri frowned at Raubahn. "Your flame has already been rekindled, and with each passing day burns all the more brightly." She turned to Urianger. "If he wants to return to battle, he's going to need sparring opponents. It would do both of you well, I think. You don't get nearly enough fresh air or time in the sun."

Urianger looked at Higiri for some seconds before responding, concession coloring his tone. "As is thy will, my lady."

Raubahn considered his opponent… and the creature he'd just summoned, a carbuncle colored a deep amber. A construct of aether and will—not something he needed to worry about causing permanent harm to, so long as he did not directly strike the focusing gem set in its brow. "Are you ready?"

Urianger nodded at him, pulling his tome from his side, opening it to a particular page. From this angle he could see that the pages were cut to different widths, creating subtle ridges along the fore-edge. So that was how they always turned to the right spell in the heat of combat. "When thou art prepared, I will be as well." The carbuncle moved, standing in front of him, tails raised in a defensive—almost defiant—stance. "As is standard for arcanist duels, once the carbuncle has met defeat I shall allow it to remain so. And I do full expect it will be, ere thou doth reach me."

It was good to be fighting again, even under such unusual circumstances. They'd claimed a bit of ground outside Vesper Bay. Pippin was off to his right, animatedly talking about duels with a crimson-clad Miquo'te, and the other Scions and no few townspeople had also followed them out. Word had spread rapidly in a place with so little gossip and even less news. As if anyone should care who the Archon was or wasn't hosting in his chambers.

Raubahn drew his blade, then—without further warning—charged. He nearly tripped over the carbuncle as it responded by charging back and turning to slide along the sandy ground, throwing its body underfoot. Recovered and turned to face the creature and slashed at it, chipping a chunk of amber from its back that dissolved into aether, only to take a weak magical bolt in the back. Raw, unaspected energy… but barely enough to sting. He turned again, starting Urianger down. "I know you're capable of more than that, Archon! Stop holding back!"

"As is thy will." He pointed. Raubahn saw the gem set in the carbuncle's brow flash before a bolt of levin arced. He felt his knees weaken and stumbled again as the levin-bolt for a moment overwhelmed him, then righted himself. He was slow; his convalescence had sapped him of speed and strength. Something to be corrected. But, at the same time, he could feel the old excitement coming back, his blood coming alive as he fought, trying to land blows on the small, yet remarkably capable construct. Its gem flashed again; this time he slammed the flat of his blade into the creature, knocking it aside and dislodging a few more chips of amber, and the bolt struck only soil. It didn't save him from Urianger's next spell, this one far more substantial. He felt the aether seep into his lungs and constrict his breathing; the creature was positioning itself carefully, keeping him from seeing both opponents and allowing Urianger to cast his spells freely.

That couldn't continue.

He focused his own aether into the ground, mindful of the ring's boundaries. It wouldn't do to see their audience harmed. He formed it into a ring, out where his opponent was standing, swung again at the carbuncle as he heard footsteps behind him. Urianger had clearly sensed the aether as it approached its peak—but he wasn't fast enough to avoid it.

The ground along the edge of the ring exploded in flame. He heard Pippin's cheer above the crowd and grinned, then took another levinbolt as punishment for his lack of focus, even as he turned, circling around the carbuncle to face the other man. Urianger had stumbled out of the fire, his robes scorched and in one spot smoldering. "Impressive," he noted before turning to another page in the (apparently fireproof) tome, wincing as the straps of his sandals shifted over burned skin. "I was not expecting thy control of aether to be expressed in such a--"

Raubahn grinned, then kicked the carbuncle into Urianger while he was monologuing. "You're here—" he gasped, trying to get enough air through the lingering spell—"here to _fight_, not talk!" Urianger staggered, winded by carbuncle striking his chest, although he somehow managed to not fall back into the fire. The carbuncle scrambled to its paws, then charged Raubahn again, levin surrounding it in a shield-like bubble. _Let it come._ Raubahn raised his blade to meet it, making a concession by aiming slightly off-center. The levin arced into his blade and he grit his teeth against the shock, but he held true. The carbuncle struck the blade with full force and cracked before shattering into motes of aether, the chunk of amber that served as its focus dropping to the ground, undamaged.

But it was not without cost—Raubahn's lungs burned from his attempts to breathe through the affliction, and the lack of air was starting to wear on his already-taxed body. With no means to break the spell, he would need finish this fight quickly. He moved to melee, trying in vain to avoid another blast of raw energy—this one cast with far less restraint than the first had been. But a spellcaster was at all times loathe to face a blade directly. And now it was Raubahn's turn to hold back, striking with flat of blade rather than edge, watching the man's hands before all else. Waiting for an opportunity.

And it came, as Urianger tried to change to another page—another spell—once more. Surely there had to be some more practical means of using arcanima than ink on paper. He swung at the tome this time, cleanly knocking it out of his hands. Urianger watched the tome fly with some dismay, only to find—in his distraction—the dull back of Raubahn's blade pressed to his throat. Immediately, the constriction in Raubahn's lungs ceased, and he breathed deeply.

"Verily, I doth yield. Even injured as thou art, thy skill is most impressive, Flame General. It would bring no little terror to my heart to be forced to face thee in blood combat." He dropped to a knee. "Too long, I fear, has it been since last I put my magic to practice in such a way. Today thou hath reminded me keenly of mine own limitations, and for that, I suspect, I may one day owe thee my life."

"Stand up. You don't need to kneel to me." Raubahn sheathed his sword, then offered Urianger a hand up; an offer which was accepted. "You did well enough, for someone who doesn't see combat often. You didn't deal well with me once I closed to melee, but that's hardly unusual for one of your ken. Practice and experience will help." Higiri was already there, pulling out salves and bandages.

"Stay still—let me see—"

"Father!" Pippin ran up to them, followed by the Miquo'te. "That was fantastic! I'm so glad to see you fighting again." Raubahn smiled at his son, broadly.

"Yes! A marvelous duel! I have no small skill in healing, should it be needed." The Miquo'te was looking at Urianger with a look of unbridled curiosity, even as he pulled his focus from his belt. "Alisaie told me quite a lot about you."

"Thou art acquainted with Alisaie?" Urianger's head tilted… then he hissed in pain.

"Of course! She was quite the adept student, at that. My pardon—I am X'rhun Tia, Crimson Duelist. It seems you took the brunt of the actual wounds-- now that your curse is lifted-- and that Doman woman seems to have the General well in hand. And I have some questions for you, if you'd be willing to exchange some small measure of your knowledge for healing?" He started to channel aether through the focus, which glowed a brilliant white. "You see, there's this cabal--"

Raubahn turned his focus back to his son, tolerating Higiri's probing. The Miquo'te had had the right of it—Urianger's attacks had been chosen to cause minimal damage. He'd be sore for a few days—his lungs still ached—but he'd need minimal healing. Damnit, Urianger _had_ been holding back. Or mayhaps hesitant to cause harm to one he did not see as an enemy. The duel had painted a revealing picture of him—one that painted him in a much better light than his usual behavior did. "It's good to be back." He grinned, broadly. The Sultana yet lived. The flame burned brightly. There was hope.

There were people in the world with a rare gift. The kind of person one could meet and within a few bells feel as if they were an old friend, as if you'd known them forever and could trust them with anything. This X'rhun was one of them, and Urianger wasn't sure how he felt about having his full attention, given the circumstances. The duelist's fascinating magics had readily mended his wounds, and, in return for that and news of Alisaie's journey these past few moons, Urianger had shared all the information he had about mysterious kidnappings. X'rhun's suspicions had been well-confirmed—once linked, there was a clear pattern to the disappearances, one the man had promised to follow up on once his latest student arrived. Urianger longed to help, but the remaining Scions were spread so thinly.

"Something weighs heavily on your mind, and a burden shared is a burden eased." X'rhun looked at Urianger, then back out at the sea. "Would you care to speak of it?"

"I fear it's no burden fit to be shared." How could he? The fate of stars, the nature of mortality, the salvation of a world… the cost one might pay for even a chance at said salvation. How could he put voice to these thoughts without sounding either madman or—worse-- traitor to all those who would one day return to the Aetherial Sea? His search for evidence had raised only more questions. Perhaps 'twas folly to even contemplate it-- that an Ascian, however sincere his mien, might reveal such vital yet mislaid truth to mortal ear without deceit.

"You miss them, don't you?" X'rhun's voice was quiet.

There was that, too. Knowing they were gone. Hoping beyond hope that they would be found, and with every passing day seeing that hope break like a wave upon the shore. He nodded. "Am I as an open book to thee?"

"More one with a small part of the title showing. It was an educated guess that struck true." He looked back at Urianger. "And I know what it is to be left alone. Is there anything I can do to help? Company or comfort?"

Urianger shook his head. He wanted to. He wanted to trust the man and accept his company, his sympathy. But the price he contemplated was already too high—no need to add another betrayal to the pile. "If thou doth hear anything of them, inform us at first opportunity. Otherwise… no. There's nothing to be done. Thine offer is kind, but unneeded." He looked up at the sky, at the stars and moon above. "I have little choice now but to trust in fate."

**Author's Note:**

> X'rhun really is in Vesper Bay at this point, assuming the timeline of the RDM class quests line up with MSQ quests that have the same minimum level requirement. :)
> 
> Also holy shit Soul Surrender was AMAZING.


End file.
